SnK: Levix(M)Reader, Grief
by compactdisc66
Summary: Attack on Titan, Levix(M)Reader, not sure what I'm going to do with this one.
1. Chapter 1

I made sure Frederick had fresh water and rubbed behind his ears before closing the stable door. Finally done grooming them. Now just to sweep up the hay and dirt. Maybe polish the worse-off saddles. Birds chirped as they settled into their nests in the high rafters of the stables, the dying sunlight breaking through the boards of the wall. I loved the stables, mostly because I was good at taking care of the horses and it was fun to be good at something. Selfish, I know. The cold pierced through my cloak and I shivered, pulling it closer around me. The dinner bell rang just as I began sweeping, but I wouldn't be able to eat until I was done.

"Frederick, I'm sorry you got fed last today." Frederick never replies. Probably because I never really specify that I'm talking to him. But the only reason I say anything at all is because silence hurts more than words do. "I knew you could man-up and let the other, more tired and stressed-out horses go first. Real mature of you. Maybe they're serving carrots tonight, and I'll sneak you some later."

"Or you could come get one for him now." I looked up at the tall doorway at the shadowy figure of Mark, my best friend. He walked in and sat on the single chair by Frederick's stall, short black hair and brown eyes hidden in the dim candlelight. "You want to join me now, finish this later?"

I shook my head and swept the pile out the door into the grass. It smelled like rain. Perfect. "Nah, I have to get this done," I answered softly, despite my best efforts to hide my tiredness. "How is your arm?"

He sighed, but went along with the change in subject. "Fine. Almost feels normal, actually. I can't believe all I got was a sprain, thought. I have you to thank."

"The whole team helped." I put the broom away and grabbed the polish and rag. "Not just me. I barely did anything. You're lucky you didn't become titan food."

He sat there with me for a moment, looking out into the forbodingly dark sky as I polished the saddle on my knee. These silences are what trap me. Thoughts of the fallen members of the Corps, their bodies strewn in bits and pieces, illuminated my mind. Today had been yet another failure- this time unrelated to Eren. But it still stung, right where it always did.

Mark left without a word. I polished saddle after saddle, removing the blood and sweat from today's outing. Red stains covered my hands and arms by the time I was done, late into the night. The horses were calm, the rain pelted the stable roof, the candle burned almost completely out before I decided things were clean and orderly enough.

Nuzzling Frederick goodbye before I left, I blew the candle out and stepped into the solemnly welcoming rain and fog. Even through the thickening grey, I knew exactly in which direction to go. As I walked cautiously through the mud, the blood on my hands felt heavier, more attached to me. Burning into my skin. Finally the tree loomed into view, tall and hauntingly melancholic. Stepping beneath the thick limbs blocked most of the rain out, so I sat down against the trunk and took a book from its place within the waistband of my pants, a charcoal stick tucked snugly between the pages. I opened to the last entry. Two days ago, after the last scouting party. Four names.

I breathed the dense air deeply, remembering who these names belonged to. I reached down to unclasp my metal leg from my knee, allowing the skin to air out. Yeah, it isn't safe to let your guard down, especially at night in the rain when you can't see much through the weather. But my leg ached to relax. So I lay it in the grass, gripped my pencil, and began to write. First the date. Then two names- Thomas Lowood and Alfred Johnson. Finally, two traits each, one I hated and one I enjoyed.

Thunder rolled in the distance, like yearning groans, mourning for something lost. The blood staining my skin had washed away. Moments passed as I absorbed the words fully, before flipping to the very first page, empty except for a single short paragraph: "Grief is felt because a person no longer exists," I whispered inaudibly into the dark. "Grieving is remembering that he once did."

I don't know how long I sat against that tree, staring at those words. But it felt like millenia had passed before I could return it to my side, reattach my hunk of metal that replaced my leg, and begin walking to the kitchens. My appetite had, as usual, vanished. But Frederick was expecting carrots.

I slipped in through the back door, which entered into the large, spacious pantry. The location of the carrots was by now firmly planted deep within my memory. I grabbed enough for about one per horse (I always felt bad just giving them to Frederick, so all the horses got a 2 a.m. snack) and slipped back out into the rain. Five minutes later, all horses have been fed their respective carrots, and I am off to my room.

In the commons room, most of the torches are out but a few to illuminate just enough. Even so, I could barely see after shutting the door. The table should be over there somewhere...

"Dammit!" I cringed at the throbbing pain in my toe. The table was closer than I thought. After applying pressure to it and falling over from the pain, I decided that it was broken. And my room just _has_ to be one of the last ones down the hallway.

"Oi, shitty brat."

I froze from trying to get up, all my attention towards the voice coming from where the couches should be, to my right. Captain Levi sometimes caught me coming in late at night - or most often, early in the morning. I didn't know why, what he wanted, but it was happening more and more frequently.

"Answer me."

I had tensed so much with fear/surprise that I forgot to answer. "Sorry, Captain," I whispered into the darkness. A gleaming pair of pale eyes reflected the scant torchlight, calm and uncaring. Eyes I knew well, both in the dark and during the day.

He stood silently, walking with ease past the table I'd tripped over until he towered over me. "What the hell are you doing out so late?" he grumbled at me, lifting me up by one arm. I made sure my pained toe didn't make me wince.

Same question every time. Same answer. "Working."

He shoved me ahead of him, in the direction of my room. It felt rough, the unkind touch bruising my arm relentlessly. But I knew- we both knew, that the foundations of the gesture were thoughtful. Otherwise I'd have broken a lot more than my toe trying to get to bed maneuvering through these hallways.

He stopped pushing me once we reached my oakwood door, slightly isolated from the others. I slept closer to Hanji because I did quite a lot of work for her as well as Levi. Even after I'd entered my room, Levi remained in the doorway, his eyes boring through me as I turned to face him, eyes, downcast.

"You better get your ass to bed." I glanced up at his stern, annoyed face timidly. He hardly ever blinks. I wonder if it hurts, not to blink. The whole point of blinking is removing dust from the eyes. Are his eyes covered in dust? Can't he feel it?

"Are you fucking listening to me?" His harsh voice jolted me back to the conversation. Um... no, I hadn't been listening... He read my face and sighed dramatically, like repeating himself was a crime. "If I find out tomorrow that one of my men can't keep up his work because he wanted a late night up, then he's gonna be taught a lesson the hard way."

I nodded and saluted. Same empty threats. This is just a repeat of so many previous nights, all ending the same way. He squinted at me before saying, "And clean yourself the fuck up, you have mud all over you," and promptly walking back down the hall, to his own quarters.

I shut my door and dazedly staggered to the bathroom to wrap my toe, unsure why tonight felt different.


	2. Chapter 2

I shouldered my bag as I locked my room door behind me, my shaking hands causing me to drop the keys. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves as the key finally made contact with the lock. Then I stared into the wood at my room number. 147. I let procrastination take over for a few minutes. Who created numbers? Like, who decided that the picture for what represented a thing in singularity? Or four things? Where did these universal images come from? How did they catch on? Were there multiple different images for the same number? How did one get chosen… Oh well. Procrastination session over.

"What are you doing?"

"LORD!" I jumped into the door at the words close to my back, whipping around to face the voice. "Captain… You… You can't… Please don't do that…"

His eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at me like I was God's biggest mistake. "You've been standing in front of your door for the past five minutes. What are you doing?" he asked again, with more force.

I shifted the bag on my shoulder nervously. Let's just hope he doesn't want me to do anything today. "Hanji gives me the first Saturday of the month off, Captain. I'm visiting family in town today."

He didn't nod. Didn't say anything in response. Just stared at me a moment with thin, sunken eyes, before walking on like nothing had happened. I watched his small form walk back down the hallway before running in the opposite direction, eager to leave the tense atmosphere. I waved to Mark as I passed the training field. He could barely lift a hand to wave back as he huffed and puffed down a running track. I jumped the fence around the side of the barracks leading into the field, two miles from which the town is situated. The walk is pleasantly quiet and warm, the sun's rays still strong enough to reach through the thick puffy clouds. The closer I got, though, the colder I felt. The more I shivered. I remembered last month's visit had gone better than some. I just hoped that maybe Daniel was out with his friends.

The field gave way to cobblestone, houses suddenly stretching high above me. I weaved through town, past the main road where that same creepy old man who tries to sell me the same necklace always, _always_ and without fail attempts to touch either my junk or my butt. This time I made it through without a problem, though. He was preoccupied with some other young dude who obviously wasn't from around here and didn't know any better. I decided to do help a fellow out.

"Heyyyyy, bro!" I hugged the guy tight, the most worried look I could muster plastered onto my face. He looked so utterly confused, his reddish-brown hair flopping as I shook him slightly. "Dad just collapsed this morning! I've been looking all over for you!" And with that I successfully yanked him out of the situation. We raced around a corner, where I patted the poor guy on the back with a smile. "Saved your butt. Bye!" I waved in his general direction, speed-walking to the next block over.

The house was a light brown colour, with three windows total. I always remembered it as a dark place. I hated the dark. Though the outside seemed completely normal, it did not reflect the inside accurately. My stomach twisted as my foot hit the first stair. My knuckles whitened on the railing.

Something crashed from inside.

I ran the rest of the way to the stairs, scraping my knee as I slipped on the last step, and threw the door open. It was dark, as always. But in the corner I saw a woman's body, unmoving and glittering with something wet. I could hear dishes clanging in the kitchen, saw shadows moving in the dark. Then he came out, lurching and banging into the doorway, a cracked bottle in one hand and a full one in the other. When his neon blue eyes, lidded and heavy, landed on me, he without hesitation or alteration in his emotion tossed the cracked bottle at my head. I barely ducked in time, but next he threw the bookshelf down, landing so that it smashed into splinters and books cascaded over the woman's legs. She moved in response, glancing in my direction. When she saw me, her blue eyes lit up beneath her stringy black hair and an arm reached out to me.

Before I even reacted, Daniel had me on the ground. His uniquely Roman features were calm as the rest of his body fought to subdue me, and his curled black hair hung low into my eyes. It was so dark, all I could do was lash out and hope I hit something. We struggled in the slight light over books and broken wood and crushed glass. His punches were hard and aimed where he knew my weak points were, such as my head and above my fake leg. But my training practice had taught me to ignore the feel of it until _after_ the fight.

Suddenly I was on his chest with my hands at his throat. I didn't realize how hard I was squeezing until he coughed and spluttered and choked, his eyes wide and unfocused. "I would kill you in a second," I whispered, all my muscles tense, our eyes locked on to one another. It was a total lie. We both knew it. There were too many of his sane moments in my memory. My mother had crawled slightly closer to us, rubbing my arm and whispering quietly into my ear, trying to soothe me. I wasn't exactly fueled by anger. It was more just self-protection, as Daniel made the first move. I didn't actually think I could kill him, but I might as well pretend. Because I definitely wanted to. His previously rage-filled eyes had changed to complete fear without shame. "Once she tells me to, I won't hesitate. Nothing would change my decision You'll be gone."

I wished those words were true.

With the last of my adrenaline, I tossed him into the doorway leading to the bedroom, where he lay still, only breathing. I stepped blindly into the dark corner, reaching for the frail arms that waved me closer. Hauling her up in one hand, I tugged her thin frame against me and yanked her shoes and coat on before Daniel could get up. I panicked when I heard him scraping against the floor and smushed a hat on her head. Then we escaped.

The light was incredibly bright. I half-carried her down the stairs and a secluded alley, where we sat down together on the filthy ground and she sobbed into my shoulder. I checked her head for injuries first, finding nothing but a dark purple-red bruise soft to the touch. On her arms were scattered cuts of various depths, and her chest and thighs were bruised under her nightgown and coat. "Honey, I'm glad you're here," she whispered, her crying almost immediately subsiding. "He's just confused... Just in a bad place..."

"Mom…" I wiped her remaining tears, feeling some of my own build up. I shook off my coat and wrapped it over hers, rubbing her arms to get her bird-like bones warm. "Mom… I almost have enough money for your own place. You…" She looked at me through watery eyes, her bruised face sorrowful and afraid. I then decided we weren't going to think about it. So many times I brought up the situation, and she would go round and round in circles that her "little boy" was just confused, and that it wasn't his fault and that she wasn't going to leave him.

Not this time. Just another two months or so, and she would be out of there. So we'll think about it later. "Let's have a picnic, Mom. We'll buy a basket and head out into the field and eat until we're stuffed and not remember anything. C'mon, Mom." I stood and crossed her arm in mine, wiping the last of her tears away. She took a deep breath and smiled at me like she wanted to mean it. I smiled back as best I could, forgetting the previous events, and kissed her cheek with a loud _pop_.

We roamed lazily down the streets toward her favourite restaurant. She hummed a little, which to me was a good sign. We probably looked ridiculous: she's in a torn nightgown, house slippers, two coats, and desperately needs a hot bath. I was starting to feel the bruises forming on my skin, and my shirt was torn in some places.

Her favourite restaurant happened to be a little expensive, but I figured, on a day like this, why care? So I paid with all my pocket money and we waited for at least two hours for all the food available, sitting at a table and guessing the lives of passers-by. She didn't once stop smiling. We skipped with our basket out into the field, until I had to carry her because she was getting tired. The next few hours were all sunshine and warmth and soft grass and fricking awesome sushi and bread bowls.

I couldn't take her back. Not again. So we packed up the basket and headed for the base. Right about now, dinner will have started. The perfect time to sneak someone in. I hefted myself and the basket over the gate, then my mother next. "Mom, we're gonna have to be a little quiet, ok?" I whispered, pecking her forehead as she laughed softly to herself. I creaked the back door open, peeking down the hall for cadets wandering about. It seemed they were all in the mess hall. I guided my mother to my room quietly, setting her things down and folding back the sheets of the bed for her. Oh gosh, I forgot to feed Frederick… "Mom! I have to go feed my horse, then I'll be back with some books and blankets for you." I helped her out of her multiple coats and tucked her into the bed before racing out into the hall and out the back entrance, directly for the stables. I tripped once and skidded in the mud, straight to the stable doors.

"Frederick!" I yanked the doors open and the horses all startled in their stables. "Frederick, gosh, I'm sorry I'm late!" He whinnied unhappily as I hurriedly threw hay in his stall. "I was busy with my mother all day today. I'm actually still busy with my mother. She's staying with me for a while. Maybe you'll get to meet her. She's never ridden a horse." I threw his old water out into the grass and refilled it with a speed I've never known myself to previously possess. Without another word I was racing back to the main building- once again slipping in probably the same patch of mud. I hope no one sees me in this state, but there was no helping the rush: I hated leaving my mother alone.

As I breached the doorway to the commons, I decided it was better to take my muddy shoes off. Not that it would do much, since about 90% of my body was covered in it anyways. I grabbed blankets from an old supply closet and pulled some books from the library upstairs. Thank heavens there was no one there. I made sure the books were all mystery, excluding one history book (my mother liked to look at the dates for some reason).

By the time I slipped my boots back on, it was already dark outside. I guess we'd lost track of time earlier in the day. Books and blankets in hand, I carefully hurried to the barracks without tripping. The lights were already all extinguished. It was just a repeat of yesterday night. I stepped forward in the direction of the hallway and _BAM_! My toe slammed into the exact same table. I fell forward on my face, blankets and books flying as I whimpered in pain. At least it was on the other foot.

"_Now_ what are you doing?"

I glanced up at the dark shadow I assumed was Levi sitting on the couch. I crawled into a sitting position, gathering the fallen books. "I just… wanted to read, Captain?" I mumbled out, more like a question than a response. I heard him sigh heavily, saw his shadow move through the dark. He lifted a blanket up, but didn't vocalize the question evident in his silence. "…I get a little cold, Captain." Gosh, that sounds so lame.

He stood there for another moment, staring down at me probably disapprovingly, before picking up another blanket and pulling me up by one arm, like always. I knew where we were going, and I got a little panicky. I'm not supposed to have other people in my room. He might make her leave. As he shoved me down the torch-lit hall, I thought up some type of escape plan. We're about halfway to my room. I have to do something.

I stopped walking. He stopped behind me, not shoving or asking. I turned around, books stacked high in front of my face. "Captain," I began, "I can go to my room from here. Thank you for accompanying-"

"You can't carry all of this yourself," he interrupted, seemingly unfazed as he pushed me to start walking again. My heart raced. She doesn't have anywhere else to go right now.

I stopped again a few moments later, turning to face him. The door was in sight now. I'm sure my eyes were wide and scared, and my breathing was short. "Captain," I urged, my voice full of sincerity. "Please do not accompany to my room."

His eyes didn't change, still stared at me dully. But he remained quiet, and I felt his gears turning. Please, please God, just don't come to my dorm…

He walked the few steps to my door but just as my panic attack engaged, he set the blankets down on the ground. He then stood and stared at me. It was the same dull and careless stare, but I realized my face was probably bruised from the fight earlier. "You can explain yourself later." A slightly disgusted look. "You're always fucking covered in mud."

With that, he walked back to his own room.

I sighed in relief. Thank God. I fumbled with the key before finally wrenching the door open, balancing the books with one hand. My mother lay half-asleep in the bed, smiling at me as I entered. She looked so thin and scarily breakable. I forced a smile back, gently setting the books down on the bedside table within her reach. She looked pleased just to see paper in general, patting my arm thankfully with skeleton fingers. She had cleaned up a little since this morning, the dried blood washed away and her hair slightly fuller. "Thanks, honey. I'm gonna hit the hay now, is that alright?"

Her natural speaking voice was nothing more than a whisper. I nodded, placing a few of the blankets on the floor for me, turning off the light and heading towards the bathroom, a slight limp in my walk. "I love you Mom."

"I love you too, sweetie."


End file.
